


I Danced All Night

by Pereprin



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pereprin/pseuds/Pereprin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a tumblr prompt submitted by party-with-books: Marianne teases Bog into dancing with her at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Danced All Night

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little piece of Butterfly Bog sweetness in between working on King's Gambit. I don't usually write in the present tense, but I thought I'd give it a whirl.

It’s when the sun bids farewell to the moon on its descent, when it washes over the horizon in shades of pink and orange, that Marianne feels it. It’s when the moon is set alight, still basking in the day’s goodbye, that she thinks anything can happen. It’s as though she has seen a secret, the fleeting moment between today and tomorrow.

It begins with a thrum in her wings.

She feels it even now, her fingers splayed lightly over Bog’s as they sit in the boughs of the oak. He is solid and real beneath her touch, and she is alive and humming, listening as the forest sings along to the tune of the band below. The distant valley is a kaleidoscope of blurred color and noise. Figures below twirl along to their songs and Marianne cannot help but tap her finger in time with the rhythm.

He can feel it in her, too. Like a second pulse. It bewitches him, and he wonders if he will ever stop being amazed by her. Bog turns his head to steal a glance at the wistful look on her face in the twilight. His heart aches with loving her at the sight. The sun sinks deeper into darkness but he does not notice. To him, she is all the light there is.

Selfishly, he relishes that she is like him, quick to shy from the throngs below. He has her radiance all to himself.

The thrum is in her limbs now.

Soon, Marianne is standing, delicate fingers circling round his own. He fixes her with a warm smile. He cannot remember when last he smiled before she rained down on him in a storm of glass and fury.

“Had enough, then? It’s only just begun,” there is even a smile in his voice. He has no taste for parties. Neither does she. But the music is a draw neither of them can resist.

Her wings fan out and she is airborne. A gentle pull from her and he is standing, the spines sprouting from his back twitching to life as he spreads his own.

“We need to dance to this,” she laughs and tugs at his hand, running a thumb over the length of a dark claw.

Moonlight glints from the iridescent film of his wings. He stiffens.

“Dance, eh? I, ah… well, I can’t,” he lets slip a raspy, bashful laugh.

She laughs in turn and the unease melts away.

She flutters above him, reaching gently for the second hand quavering at his side.

“Of course you can. Here, I’ll show you.” She tugs at him again, gently until he takes flight, hovering above the branch.

Marianne sees the trust in his eyes, the cautious but certain look of someone who gives and expects nothing in return. It fills her with warmth until she is overfull, pulling him toward her until they are nearly flush together.

She guides his hand to her waist. His other, to her palm.

Marianne is moving before he can even form a question. It feels natural to follow, so he does.

Then they are spinning. He follows the arc of her body and she sways with him. Sometimes, it’s as if they are dueling without swords or staves. He can’t help but join in her laughter when they do. Sometimes, when the music, slows, she presses close. They draw their limbs toward them, fingers entwined and pressed between their bodies. He forgets how small she is until she is tucked into the shelter of him.

He can feel her heart thudding against his hand. Bog shifts so he can press his cheek to the top of her head. Marianne tucks hers into the crook of his neck.

The breath catches in her chest as she is overcome by how perfect it feels to move with him like this.

Distantly, the music quiets. By then, they are waltzing to a slow, warm breeze. Hair clings to her brow as she rests her head against his chest. Marianne can hear his heart beating, and in it, she hears that rhythm.

The rhythm that moves her.

It’s the most heart achingly beautiful sound.

“It seems I was mistaken,” he murmurs into her hair. His voice rumbles through her, into her marrow until she forgets she even has bones.

“I never doubted you for a second,” she smiles against him.

He encircles her body with his arms.

They revel in the closeness and silence, bathed by the light of the moon above. Night reigns once more. But in that moment, they are beholden to no one.


End file.
